I Tell My Love To Wreck It All
by darkcurls-and-hazeleyes
Summary: 'They both seemed content to just lay there, lost in the sound of each other's breathing and calming heartbeats and slick, sweaty skin. The moon got higher and higher as it got darker and darker and soon the only light source they had was from the red numbers on the clock beside his bed.' Blaine knows what he has to do, he just can't bring himself to do it.


_A/N: This one's for Rachel (aka. rayychel infinity) just for being awesome._

_I haven't updated in so long, sorry guys. I honestly haven't had any good ideas. But today, during yet another tedious Geography lesson, this idea came to me. _

_Warnings: uh... sex? *shrugs*_

Blaine had been fighting with himself for days.

_Stop being selfish___he kept telling himself. _This isn't about you. It's about Kurt._

Every time he saw his boyfriend's smiling face, he felt a stab of pain in his chest. Kurt was so excited for New York, so incredibly ready to start a new life in a new place with his best friend and Blaine was about to ruin it all.

He knew he meant a lot to Kurt. He knew that, without him, Kurt wouldn't be where he was now. Not to toot his own horn or anything, but Blaine had played a huge role in the TV drama that was Kurt's life and he was proud to say so. Of course, the feeling was mutual – Kurt had saved Blaine, too, and that's what made their relationship special.

It was also what prevented Blaine from doing what he knew he had to do.

So the Friday night before Kurt left, Blaine invited him over but didn't say a word. He wanted one last night with him; just one more night to pretend that everything was, and was going to be, okay.

"Hey," was how he greeted Kurt at the front door at exactly 3:15 pm sharp. His voice was softer than usual. Kurt threw him a smile and kissed him gently, once on the lips before stepping inside and shedding his coat. Blaine took it and hung it over the railing of the staircase.

"Okay, I brought... _Grease_ for a sing-a-long, _St Trinians _for some comedy or _The Notebook _for a good sob," Kurt said_, _and it was only then that Blaine noticed the DVD cases in his hands. He pursed his lips.

"_Grease_," he decided, and Kurt beamed. Blaine took the other two movies as Kurt put the disk in the player and switched on the television. Blaine lay down on the couch and made room for Kurt.

"C'mere," he said, patting the space next to him. Kurt curled himself into Blaine's middle, and Blaine lay his head on top of Kurt's, one arm settling behind his head and another over his stomach to play with the buttons on his shirt.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Blaine asked as the opening song started playing. He saw Kurt's cheeks pull into a smile.

"Oh, yes," he said. Blaine smiled and pressed his lips into Kurt's hair.

Near the end of the movie, after Sandy had drawled her _"Tell me about it, stud" _and Danny had almost choked on nothing at it, Kurt sighed and uttered, "I'm gonna miss you."

Blaine stopped fumbling with the button over Kurt's stomach, but moments later Kurt's hand was grasping his and he was turning to face Blaine with teary, earnest eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just don't want to leave you."

"You have to," Blaine said, and he had to stop himself from letting everything out. "You can't stay here your whole life. You need to go and be who you were _born_ to be." It sounded terribly corny, like something straight out of a 70's movie, but Kurt sniffed and nodded, and strained his neck, kissing the line of Blaine's jaw. Blaine bent his head down and caught Kurt's lips, and it was awkward, but they weren't worrying about what was productive and what wasn't. All they were focusing on now was time, and how little they had left of it.

When Kurt sucked on his top lip, Blaine knew this was it. He knew this was the last time there were going to do this and he wanted to make the most of it. So, gently breaking the kiss, he gently nudged Kurt to stand and followed him, wordlessly taking his hand and leading him up the stairs as best he could with blurry eyes. He didn't want to let this go.

In his room, Kurt took charge, kissing his lips and pushing them towards the bed until the backs of Blaine's knees hit the bed and they fell, Blaine taking Kurt's light weight easily. They crawled up the bed, never breaking the kiss, and as soon as Blaine was situated comfortably against the pillows, Kurt tugged upwards at the bottom of his shirt, swiping his tongue over Blaine's bottom lip.

"You or me?" he asked against Blaine's mouth, rolling his hips down.

"You," Blaine hissed through his teeth. Kurt's hardness was evident through the four thin layers of clothing they were wearing and he was definitely going to miss this.

Kurt pulled back and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down over his hips and ass and Blaine almost moaned at the sight of his fully-hard cock, dark and throbbing between his legs. Make that three layers.

Kurt kicked his pants off and tapped Blaine's thigh. "Up," he said, and Blaine raised his hips, wondering when and how his pants got unbuttoned. Kurt pulled them and his boxer briefs down and Blaine flung them off his toes.

"Slow down," he murmured when Kurt bent down to kiss him again. "I want to remember this."

Kurt blushed but nodded, and pressed his lips to Blaine's again. Blaine cupped the back of his neck and gently raised his hips again, a sigh escaping into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's hands braced the sides of Blaine's head and they clenched into the pillowcase at the contact.

"Roll over," Blaine whispered. Kurt did, pulling Blaine on top of him, and they both laughed a little when Blaine lost his balance and almost fell sideways off the bed. But it wasn't long before they were kissing again, with too much teeth and tongue and it was all so familiar but Blaine knew it wouldn't be for much longer.

He felt Kurt shudder when he reached a hand down and brushed it over them both lightly; his hands tightened in Blaine's hair and he pulled him impossibly closer, wrapping one leg around his thigh and pressing his hips up into Blaine's. Blaine let out a shaky moan and pulled away, kneeling between Kurt's now-spread legs. Kurt, as usual, whimpered.

"I want to remember this," Blaine said, and Kurt blinked. Blaine gently traced a line up the inside of Kurt's thigh, feeling the muscles there tense, and watching his boyfriend's mouth part with a sigh. He bent down and slipped the head of Kurt's cock past his lips, remembering the moan that came out of his throat, and sank down lower, relaxing his throat and pushing down until he felt Kurt hit the back of it, and he never actually realized how good he'd gotten at this. They'd certainly come a long way since their first time back in August when Blaine had gotten too enthusiastic and it'd ended up with choking and _oh my god, Blaine, are you okay?_

"Fuck," Kurt whispered as Blaine hollowed his cheeks and dragged his mouth up, digging his fingers into the skin and scratchy hair on his thigh. Kurt closed his eyes and tipped his head back as Blaine sank down again and stayed there, swaying his head a little because he knew it drove Kurt crazy. His hand wandered to the base of Kurt's dick, over his balls, tickling his perineum and tracing over his hole as he sucked back up, and Kurt made a noise that was border-lining on animal.

"Blaine... I'm going to come if you don't stop."

Blaine tried hard to fight back a new wave of tears. He didn't want this to be the last time.

"Here," he said, reaching over to the bedside table drawer and wrenching it open. He moved his football magazines and found the bottle and the little blue foil package, before deciding against taking the latter and sitting back up with just the bottle. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"It's only us," Blaine said simply.

Kurt scooted over to give Blaine room to lie down on the bed, and he took the spot at the end of the bed. Blaine got comfortable against the pillows, putting a thick one under his lower back, and handed Kurt the bottle, taking a deep breath.

Kurt nudged Blaine's knees apart and opened the bottle with a tiny _snick_. He drizzled some onto his fingers and crawled closer. Blaine's hand circled his own cock and stroked it lazily.

Kurt was good at preparing, Blaine had decided. He was gentle and thorough; patient, unlike himself, who was too lust-driven by the time they were up to that to remember to be careful. Kurt had pulled him away and scolded him many times for being too rough.

But Kurt was the polar opposite. He was careful and whispered little condolences when Blaine's muscles fluttered or he made a tiny pained noise. Blaine knew he was going to miss how _gentle _Kurt was; how sex, for him, wasn't about being rough and needy.

When Kurt was up to three fingers and Blaine was grinding down onto them, _uh_'s and _ah_'s escaping his mouth more often than not, Kurt pulled the digits out and edged close enough to Blaine that the head of his cock was brushing against Blaine's stretched hole. Blaine spread his legs ever-wider and nodded; Kurt pushed forward, eyes closed, face deep in concentration. This had always been the tricky bit, because neither of them was small. But once Kurt had bottomed out the pinching pain turned to pleasure and he could move.

"Gonna miss this," he muttered, clutching at Blaine's defined hipbones. "Gonna miss taking you like this when no one's around so I can hear the noises come out of your pretty little mouth."

Blaine pushed his head back into the pillows and squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth hanging open like a dog's on a hot day. When Kurt gently pushed his knees up to his chest, he turned his face into the pillow and bit down hard, the heat in his stomach already starting to spread.

"Do it harder," he begged, and Kurt did, angling it different and driving into Blaine over and over, his balls slapping against the skin of Blaine's ass with an obscene sound again and again and again. Blaine moaned each time, and those moans turned into whines, and those whines turned into sobs, and when he slitted his eyes open he could see that Kurt's face was streaked with tears, too. His pupils were dilated and he had his bottom lip in his mouth, biting down so hard the skin around his teeth was going white. Blaine gestured for him to come closer and Kurt did, colliding their lips together so hard that it almost hurt. The tears on their faces mingled along with their moans and the thin twine keeping Blaine hanging snapped when Kurt hit his prostate. They came together with a symphony of _I love you_'s and _please don't leave me_'s and choked sobs, until Kurt was too sensitive and Blaine was shaking too hard to keep going and they collapsed in a sweaty heap in the middle of the bed, sniffling and sobbing quietly into each other's shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Kurt interrupted. "It's alright."

The analog on his bedside table read six o'clock, and his parents weren't due home until at least nine but he wasn't hungry and somehow, he knew Kurt wasn't either. They both seemed content to just lay there, lost in the sound of each other's breathing and calming heartbeats and slick, sweaty skin. The moon got higher and higher as it got darker and darker and soon the only light source they had was from the red numbers on the clock beside his bed. He heard a little snore from the boy next to him, and checking that the door was definitely closed, he kissed Kurt on the head, pulled the sheets up over them and snuggled into his boyfriend's side, dreading the events that would happen tomorrow.

Xxxxxxx

As soon as Kurt's plane left the tarmac, Blaine wanted to slap himself. He should've known he wouldn't have the guts to do it. He couldn't. Kurt looked so happy he was glowing. After promises of visits and Skype dates and chaste kisses and thank-you's and hugs and more kisses and a final goodbye, Kurt had disappeared into the boarding tunnel with a beaming smile and he didn't look back.

Blaine watched from the window as the plane climbed higher and higher into the sky until it was nothing but a dot, and he sighed. He needed to go home and start planning a trip to New York as soon as he could.

_Another A/N: HOW THE FUCK CAN I END IT THERE NOOOOOO. I hear you guys, really. But this wasn't supposed to be, like, a happy ending fic or anything. I feel like absolute shit and this is what comes out of it. Is it sad that I can write more when I'm upset than when I'm not? ._._

_Rachel, honey, this one was for you. Thanks for being there for me and encouraging me when everything falls to shit. I love you. (Go check her out, guys. She's fucking phenomenal.)_

_Xx_


End file.
